


Waking a Dreaming Man

by Green_Sphynx



Series: Ten Years of Depravity [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Dom Shiro (Voltron), Forced Orgasm, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Hurt Shiro (Voltron), M/M, Misunderstanding going really bad, Misunderstandings, Mutual feelings and good intentions don't make non-consensual sex any less rape, Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Oral Sex, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Top Shiro (Voltron), Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:28:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24131356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Green_Sphynx/pseuds/Green_Sphynx
Summary: Shiro knew they were trying to break him, to break his mind. Eventually he would no longer figure out when he was dreaming and start answering their questions about Voltron, thinking he was just talking with his team.He had found one crude, but particularly successful strategy against it. Most of those seemingly pleasant dreams involved the two people he wanted to see most, and well… he could make sure there was not going to be any talking when it was just them.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron), Keith/Lance/Shiro (Voltron), Keith/Shiro (Voltron), Lance/Shiro (Voltron)
Series: Ten Years of Depravity [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1741198
Comments: 13
Kudos: 139





	Waking a Dreaming Man

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a fic I wrote in 2010 when I still had so, so much to learn about writing, fanfic, and the smut I boldly started with.  
> I understand the concept of consent a whole lot better than I did then, so while the original fic this is based on was written like blatant porn, this semi-rewrite is very much whump instead. Whump for all the parties involved, no matter how strongly they were in love with each other before this takes place.

If the last twenty months or so had taught Shiro anything, it was that his last escape from the Galra had been as improbable and insanely lucky as winning the jackpot in a national lottery was, and if the chance of that happening once was effectively zero, then it was equal parts foolish and masochistic to hold out any hope for it happening again.

Even if this time there were people who may actually be looking for him - especially Keith would be too stubborn to let it go, and where Keith went Lance would follow - but they had their hands more than full with the Galra Empire as it was, and the likelihood of them finding the one ship that held Shiro in this vast universe was negligible.

Just like Pidge's chances to actually find Matt and their father, although Shiro had never dared to even _think_ that thought around her.

No, there was no rescue this time, no miracle escape.

This was it.

He was kept unconscious most of the time, but occasionally they woke him up for tests or questioning, sometimes both. Worse was when they started inducing dreams - nightmares that were going to haunt him the rest of his life no matter if that would be long or short; dreams that reflected reality so well he believed them until they too twisted into nightmares; and then sometimes good dreams, actually pleasant, lovely dreams that he wished desperately would last.

He knew they were trying to break him, to break his mind. Eventually he would no longer figure out when he was dreaming and start answering their questions about Voltron, thinking he was just talking with his team. Or maybe this was a first step to condition him into believing in a twisted reality of their own making, turning him into their bloodthirsty Champion once more with no idea that he had once been something more.

Maybe, maybe they just wanted to break him completely, shattering his sanity until all that was left was a catatonic body vegetating in their prison.

Whatever it was, it wasn't going to be good - it was going to be _worse_ than what he was already getting now. And _whatever it was,_ he refused to go down without a fight, he refused to stop struggling to hold onto his _self_ and to keep any information he had about Voltron locked away as deeply as he could.

The latter was easy when they questioned him awake - the worst they could do was torture, after all - and more difficult but still doable in the induced nightmares. What he feared was the nice dreams with his friends, because if he was going to slip, it would be to them.

He had found one crude, but particularly successful strategy against even that. Most of those seemingly pleasant dreams involved the two people he wanted to see most, and well… he could make sure there was not going to be any talking when it was just them.

This time as well, although the dream was different than the others had been. Usually he would be in the Castleship, free and the fight with the Galra just a small whisper in the back of his head. There would be nothing to stop him from doing whatever he liked, in those dreams, lulling him into a safety that was hard to prepare for.

This time he was still in his cell, the dream starting with a groggy wake up from hurried footsteps down the hall, followed by an electric buzz and a sharp snap that sounded like something sparked, and then his cell door sliding open.

"Shiro!"

The look of relief on Lance's face was beautiful, and all Shiro needed to get himself started in his usual coping method for these dreams. The whole rescue mission set-up of the dream was clever, but they'd been clever before and Shiro knew this was far too unlikely to be true.

This was not real.

Lance standing in the open door of his cell with a look of relief on his face as he communicated his find to the rest of the team was a _dream_.

And Shiro was going to enjoy it, because that was his only way to thwart his captors' plans.

Lance stepped up to him quickly after finishing his fast message and tucking his bayard away, holding out a small device that was probably meant to be Pidge's but looked too Altean to be, and pressing it to the cuffs holding Shiro's wrists together against the wall. The electric buzz and snap of before repeated, a few sparks flying as the cuffs broke open as if there had been explosives inside of it.

Shiro dropped his tired arms, giving his flesh wrist a quick rub to soothe the ache of the too tight cuffs and stimulate the blood flow, peering up at Lance to see if they had gotten the uniform right this time.

"C'mon Shiro, we gotta go!" Lance was making a grab for his arm to hoist him up, so Shiro took his chance and let his Galra prosthetic shoot forward, metal fingers wrapping around Lance's wrist in what should not be too tight but definitely too strong to escape from, and with one hard tug he had Lance toppling over into his lap on the floor.

Lance gave the cutest yelp of surprise and tried to scramble up to his feet immediately, but Shiro's grip on his wrist kept him down with ease, his struggles as pointless as Shiro's had been in the face of torture on this ship.

Only he had no intention to torture this dream Lance, of course. He wouldn't - _couldn't_ do such a thing to Lance, whether he was real, fake or merely a disguised Galra. Shiro was as likely to kick a puppy as he was to purposely hurt Lance.

So all he did was rearrange the squirming, struggling young man in his lap, even if he had to pull back long flailing limbs to position them to his liking several times. Eventually he managed to get both Lance's wrists pinned together behind his back and his weight pressed down enough that his knees on either side of Shiro's lap were on the floor where he could no longer kick, just squirm.

Shiro had to admit, Lance was even more flexible in his induced dreams than he had been in his _own_ dreams, back before he was captured again. He had to wonder if that meant Lance was really this flexible, or if the Galra were just trying to make him like this dream better.

If it was the latter, he could unfortunately not deny they succeeded.

"Shiro, _quiznak_ man, what are you doing? We have to get out of here, we don't have time for-for _whatever this is!"_

The blush darkening his cheeks told Shiro otherwise.

In his dreams, his love was never unrequited, not for the clearly straight Lance nor for his… his…

He shook his head to lose the train of thought - he was going to _enjoy_ this dream and leave the Galra empty-handed like every time before.

"I can be quick," he promised Lance, letting his living hand slide over a strong thigh, enjoying the muscles flexing under his palm as he moved it up towards Lance's crotch. It was a bit of a surprise that his voice was so raspy and painful in this dream, but he supposed it was added for realism, considering the screaming they'd forced out of him mere hours earlier.

"Quick with _what?"_ Lance's voice broke nervously, his eyes wide with disbelief - _adorable_ \- so Shiro palmed his dick while offering the younger a hungry grin, making it as obvious as it could be.

Lance tried to protest, but Shiro put just enough pressure between his legs to make it turn into something garbled and whimpered, impossible to make out anymore. Shiro gave another nicely firm rub down to make sure Lance remained at that level of coherency before reaching up and prying his fingers under the blue helmet, tugging it off only barely carefully enough to not hurt Lance with it. Lance gaped at him with his bright red cheeks and saucer-wide eyes, and Shiro couldn't have resisted kissing him right there and then even if he had wanted to.

This dream Lance tasted… realer than usual. Normally when he got to pin Lance in his dreams he would taste a bit fruity or minty, as if he'd either had some candy or gum a while before. This time Shiro could almost taste the adrenaline on the Blue Paladin's tongue. That charred smell of electric fire and a tinge of the metallic taste that Shiro had found in no blood out here but humans'.

But Lance also tasted like sweet, sweet victory, his body going lax in Shiro's grip as he melted into the kiss almost as eager as he had been to escape the Galra ship before. His squirming changed from an uncertain struggle to tentative arousal, and when Shiro released the back of his head to get back at palming his crotch, Lance no longer showed any intention to pull away from the kiss.

Lance made the sweetest little noise into Shiro's mouth and Shiro promptly knew what it was that he wanted to do to Lance in this dream.

He _craved_ more of those noises. Never had they sounded quite so good in his dreams before.

He released Lance's wrists so he could use both hands to strip open the Paladin's jump suit from the waist, peeling it away just far enough to fish out Lance's undeniably interested cock. Lance used his newly freed hands to stabilise himself on Shiro's shoulders, only swaying slightly as if too dazed by what was happening to protest _or_ cooperate, but Shiro didn't need Lance to help. Lance weighed nothing to him and his Galra arm.

Lance _did_ yelp again in surprise - and then with a shocked, half-hearted protest - when Shiro lifted him up to stand on his feet, still straddling Shiro's lap, but now offering Shiro exactly what he needed to make Lance moan and whine for him.

Without any pause or hesitation Shiro leaned forward and sucked Lance's cock into his mouth completely. It twitched on his tongue and swelled from half to full mast almost instantly, together with a shout being torn from Lance's lips and those long, pretty fingers finding purchase in Shiro's hair. Lance gave a few sharp tugs as if he wanted Shiro to stop, but Shiro wasn't about to let go of his prize.

Lance's knees knocked together but Shiro diligently held him up as he sucked and licked to his heart's content, the noises Lance was making getting better and better as he clearly lost control. No dream had ever sounded this amazing, or _tasted_ this amazing and it only spurred him on to try harder, dust off old skills he hadn't gotten to use while awake since before that cursed mission to Kerberos, and he used every trick too fast, too much in his eagerness to hear _everything_ Lance had to offer.

If this had been real he would've gone slower, relished it longer, savour it until Lance was in tears and begging for it. But this was a dream, and while that thought was delicious he could not bring up the patience for it now. If he was lucky the dream would last long enough for him to get a second chance to do that later.

Because at this speed, Lance would no doubt be ready to go again pretty fast.

At this speed…

…Lance was coming like a freight train.

Shiro swallowed everything, salty liquid coating his tongue and throat while he eagerly sucked and lapped to get the last drop out. Lance was leaning with his elbows against the wall above Shiro at this point, forehead pressed to the damaged metal and panting in exertion. Shiro had barely realised he had leaned back to accommodate, his head pressed against the wall as well, pinned between metal and soft, hot skin.

And that, _that_ was the moment Keith skidded to a halt in the doorway.

Lance yelped and pushed away from Shiro and the wall hard enough that it took Shiro off guard and made him release him, long arms milling through the air to find balance as Lance staggered a few steps back, dick out and glistening as a testament to what had happened and impossible to cover up before Keith could see.

Keith eyes almost bugged out with how he was looking, and Shiro would assume the one thing that seemed to have been safe to assume in these dreams so far: That look was as much arousal as it was surprise, and Shiro would be getting a second treat before he would be waking up to his cold and lonely cell this time.

Keith shook off his initial surprise just in time to step into the cell and keep Lance from falling, but he didn't say a word while looking back and forth between the two in disbelief. Shiro used the moment to finally push himself up to his feet, using the wall behind him to give his weakened legs the chance to find him some stability before he would step forward.

"Sh-Shiro?" Keith seemed to swallow hard as Shiro closed the short distance between them. "Lance, what the _quiznak_ is going on?"

"He-he-" Lance started to stutter an answer but he stopped with a yelp when Shiro pressed up against his back, dick hard between Lance's buttocks, and wove his fingers into Keith's hair to pull him into a hard kiss over Lance's shoulder.

Keith remained frozen for one, two ticks, and then Shiro got shoved away so hard that he was honestly taken by surprise.

In none of his dreams Lance or Keith had given him such a hard _'no'_ like that shove.

His legs were unsteady under him as he staggered back into the wall, eyeing this dream Keith with the same confusion as Keith was eyeing him. Then Keith's eyes darkened - _and shit, oh shit, Keith had never looked at him like that, was this going to be one of those dreams turning to a nightmare after all? -_ but he helped Lance get his suit closed and decent again with an icy sort of calmness before cupping the Blue Paladin's cheek.

"I-I'm sorry," Lance started to stammer, "I couldn't- he was-"

Keith shushed him, pressing their foreheads together, an uncomfortably intimate moment for Shiro to witness in his confusion while the fear was stirring his insides to nausea with frosty fingers. "It's not your fault Lance, and Shiro would never force you. The Galra have been messing with his head for phoebs, he's not himself. This is _their_ fault, okay? Not yours."

Lance gave a shaky nod and Keith released him to turn back to Shiro, this time looking sad, too sad, _it was like it pierced Shiro's heart, just that expression._

"Let's knock him out and carry him back to Black. We don't know what else they put in his head that may have him act out against us."

As Keith stepped closer with a firm certainty and Lance next to him looking positively anxious, Shiro realised with a breaking heart that _he had been awake all along._


End file.
